


Trouble and Strife

by TooGoodToBeBad



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Byleth has like 2 lines, Dimitri and Byleth have a kid, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fluff, Mercedes has none, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Game(s), does this have a plot?, just two bros having a heart-to-heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:55:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26794750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooGoodToBeBad/pseuds/TooGoodToBeBad
Summary: Sylvain needs Dimitri's advice about a certain four letter word and all weight it carries.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Mercedes von Martritz
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	Trouble and Strife

Sylvain’s reverie was broken by the heavy thud of Dimitri plopping into the seat across the table.

“Sylvain,” Dimitri smiled warmly at him. “I am grateful for your presence this fine afternoon. Tell me, how is the border? All is well, I hope?”

“Come on, Dimitri, you know I don’t want to bore you with all that stuff,” Sylvain scoffed before taking a sip of his tea.

“Err, yes, I suppose not. So why did you decide to drop by so suddenly? Your letter, which, I assume you wrote yourself based on the absolutely horrendous penmanship-”

“Saints, bud, can’t a man drop by just because he wants to enjoy the company of one of his lifelong friends?”

Dimitri frowned, and his good eye regarded the crimson-haired man before him with a curious expression. “Is that what this is, then?”

The easygoing smile on Sylvain’s face faded. “No, not really, no.”

“So what-” Dimitri was cut off by the pitter-patter of little feet. Sylvain’s brown eyes widened as a young boy with pale green hair and bright blue eyes scampered up to their table.

“Papa! Papa!”

“Darius, look who’s here for a visit," Dimitri thumbed towards his red-haired companion.

The boy’s eyes widened before he bounded towards Sylvain and wrapped his tiny arms around him in a tight hug. “Uncle Sylvain!”

“Hey there, Darius,” Sylvain chuckled as he ruffled the boy’s hair. “What’s got you so excited today?”

Darius flashed them both a toothy grin before revealing a single copper coin. “Look! A coin!”

Dimitri frowned a bit. “Where did you get that, my son?”

Darius tapped his own ear with his index finger. “Uncle Ashe got it!”

“From your ear?”

“Yeah!”

“I see now,” a soft and tender smile began to form on Dimitri’s face while Sylvain watched the exchange with an amused expression. “Well, what have Mama and Papa said about washing behind your ears?”

“But I did, Papa!” Darius giggled before pantomiming the act with exaggerated gesticulations.

Dimitri threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh. “You must have missed that one, then. Little one, where is Mama?”

Darius jabbed a tiny finger towards the direction of the gardens. “There, with Aunt Mercie!”

Something in Sylvain’s chest fluttered at the sound of her name. He turned his head, and sure enough, there she was. She looked as divine as always, dressed in warm tones of brown and beige. Her light blonde hair fell in gentle waves around her shoulders, a far cry from the style she wore during the war. She looked his way and gave him a soft smile that sent his heart into overdrive. He waved back at her and watched her disappear with Archbishop Byleth amongst the flowers.

From across the table, Dimitri clicked his tongue before chuckling. “So that’s what this is about.”

Sylvain felt his cheeks warm up, and he shook his head gently. “Ahh, Dimitri. Looks like you finally learned to read me.”

“Actually, I still haven’t. I got that information from Ingrid,” he winked (or blinked, Sylvain wasn’t entirely sure) before slathering an obscene amount of clotted cream on a biscuit. “But you must admit, I must have fooled you for a second, yes?”

“You got me there, pal.”

Dimitri looked rather pleased with himself before glancing back at Darius, who had run off to chase after a dragonfly. “That is good to hear. Between you and me, I have taken it upon myself to be the funny one in our little family. I’ve been practicing quite a bit.”

“Uh-huh,” Sylvain raised an eyebrow. “Well, as much as I want to hear all about that, and believe me, _I really do_ , I was really hoping to get some advice from you today.”

Dimitri nodded his head in the direction of Mercedes and the Archbishop. “About that?”

“Yes, about that.”

The king deflated with a long sigh before picking up another biscuit, only for it to crumble into dust at his fingertips. “Why me, though? I thought you were supposed to be the expert on this.”

Sylvain felt his mouth twist into a slight grimace. “There’s a difference between that and this.”

“You do realize my own circumstances were highly unusual, yes? Could you not ask Felix? His story is bound to be much more relatable.”

“I tried,” Sylvain groaned before resting his elbows on the table. “I invited him here to join us, so we could all have a brotherly heart-to-heart-to-heart. But you know just as well as I do how much Felix hates leaving Fraldarius nowadays unless it’s absolutely important.”

Dimitri gave him another wide grin. “I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“I’m telling you, marriage has made that boy soft,” Sylvain laughed before leaning back in his chair. He absent-mindedly tore off a piece of a biscuit before chucking it into the air and catching it in his mouth.

“I’ll try my best to help, then,” the king replied. “What is it you wish to know?”

Sylvain leaned in. “How’d you know she was the one?” he whispered.

A tender smile formed on Dimitri’s face. “I need not remind you of the state you and the rest found me in during our reunion,” he said, a warm expression written in his royal blue eye. Sylvain found himself nodding along to his words and holding on to them like they were leading him somewhere safe.

“I’d always had an inkling of a notion of how special she was,” Dimitri continued. “When I first met her, I could scarcely believe my eyes; I was positively enamored. But she is quite difficult to read, doubly so if you are as bad at it as I am. When the war happened, and I truly sank into the depths of depravity, she stood by my side and never faltered. She never gave up hope that I would be able to free myself from the clutches of ghosts, and every step of the way, she was there.”

Sylvain listened, awestruck. Every word that Dimitri spoke shot something warm into his veins, and the more he listened, the more the words curled up against his beating heart. “I knew then that no one would ever mean as much to me as she did. I had to tell her how I felt,” the king concluded with a solemn expression.

Sylvain’s mind raced as he mulled over his friend’s words. Hundreds of different memories flashed behind his eyes, and he found himself blinking to regain control. 

The night they killed Miklan, she watched him bury his brother and healed the jagged cuts on his wrists while praying for the scars on his heart.

The night of the Ball, she graciously accepted his offer to dance, and he marveled at how delicate her hands felt in his.

The night the Holy Tomb was invaded, she found him hiding in the greenhouse and paid no mind to the flask in his hand, instead opting to keep him company.

The night Garreg Mach fell, she leaned into him and wrapped him in her arms as she sobbed into the crook of his neck.

The list went on and on, but one thing was certain: from the time they’d met, she’d somehow cut through his defenses and became a constant in his life. After all, how couldn’t she? They were cut from the same cloth, after all - two silly nobles with lives ruined by something that was so firmly out of their control. He’d told her as much.

That was probably why he was so hell-bent on keeping her safe.

“Dimitri,” he felt a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “How’d you know you were good enough?”

Dimitri shook his head. “I didn’t. And I think that was the worst part. But I had to let her know. I owed myself that much. And she deserved to know how much she meant to me.”

Sylvain leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Thanks, Dimitri. I really mean it. That was surprisingly insightful.”

“Make no mention of it,” Dimitri smiled. The sound of excited footsteps alerted them to Darius’ return, and something in Sylvain’s heart melted at the sight of Darius climbing onto his father’s lap and yammering excitedly about a cool bug he’d just seen. 

“He really does look like her,” Sylvain said softly as he watched Darius scoop up bits of clotted cream with his grubby little fingers and shove them into his mouth.

“And for that I am grateful,” Dimitri threw his head back and laughed. “A child who looked like me would be frightening, to say the least. But tell me, Sylvain,” he said slowly as he tried to stop his son from getting clotted cream all over his neatly-tied blond hair, “how does she make you feel?”

He thought about it for a bit, trying to find the one word to accurately and completely explain the depths of his emotions. “Complete.”

The king nodded at his words, and Sylvain took it as a sign to continue. “She’s seen me at my most vulnerable, my lowest. Those times when I would hide from you, Felix, and Ingrid so you wouldn’t have to see me falling apart? She was there for me. Despite the pain and sadness of her past, she’s always had more than enough hope for the two of us. She even prays for me!” he laughed softly. “She’s so… I can’t even find the words.”

“I think I know what you mean.”

“Saints, I’m not usually one to lose my words, but she just steals them from me,” he chuckled.

“Well, from one lovesick fool to another, I do hope it all goes well for you,” Dimitri gave him a smile, only for it to grow wider at the arrival of the Archbishop. “Beloved!” he grinned from ear to ear.

“You have cream in your hair,” she said drily. “And Sylvain, it’s nice to see you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, Byleth,” he shot her a friendly wink. She nodded before turning her attention towards her husband and beginning what looked to be a lengthy discussion about what was for dinner or the merits of letting their son eat clotted cream with his fingers or something. He wasn’t listening too much. With a polite nod, he excused himself from the table and left.

It was time for him to buy a ring, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm bad at kids, Darius is like 3 or 4, I dunno. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this! Feedback and comments are appreciated!
> 
> I had to write something nice and pleasant because I've been working on another angsty piece to add to my other series, so this was a nice change of pace. 
> 
> For the record, I have never clotted any cream. I saw some dude make it on TV while I was writing and I thought it was real neat.
> 
> I do apologize for doing Byleth and Mercie dirty in this story by not really giving them lines, but I really wanted the focus to be on the two bros just bro-ing out over tea.
> 
> And this is the first time I've written Dimitri as a main character! I hope he comes off well and not lame.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
